


Little Busy

by sharkinterviewee



Series: Starmora smut-shots [4]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Consensual Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom Gamora, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Future Fic, Humor, I love that tag, Kinky, Parenthood, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sex Is Fun, Sex Toys, Smut, So Married, Sub Peter Quill, Sweet/Hot, degradation kink, peter quill is a bottom bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkinterviewee/pseuds/sharkinterviewee
Summary: Starmora smut. Future fic. Married. Submissive Peter Quill + pegging + bit of a degradation kink. Just because they’re parents doesn’t make them any less kinky.PWP + fluff and humor for good measure.





	Little Busy

Peter keens, his back curving so deliciously, arching up as she fucks him face first into the bed. The muscles of his shoulders bunching together as he twisted, writhing below her. Beautiful, she thinks.

He's practically clawing at the sheets as Gamora holds him down, fucks him in the ass. Her thrusts are so harsh and forceful, pushing him further and further, into becoming this hot, sweaty, _whining_ mess for her eyes only.

Peter turns his head to the side, panting, his cheeks flushed in this breathless state, just continuing to get fucked into the mattress.

She cards her hand through his hair as his eyes flutter open, somehow making it all that much more obscene, that wanton expression on his face, looking up at her with that look in his eyes. Weak with want, desperate and accepting that this is hers, to do what she wants with. He's hers.

Gamora curls her fingers in his hair, her grasp firm as she thrusted into him, and once she has a satisfactorily hold on that soft brown hair of his, she doesn't give him a tug. No, she yanks his head up, sudden and harsh, and he cries out with one of the dirtiest moans she could imagine. She makes him so fucking weak when she treats him like this.

“Yeah, you like that, you little star slut?” Gamora asks, snapping her hips up, and Peter’s only response is another loud and broken moan, whimpering and whining, and desperately nodding his head. Hoping that she'll never stop.

“Tell me. Tell me what you are.”

“Yours. I'm your slut, please,” Peter begs, not really sure what he's asking for. He just needs it. He needs more.

She loves how his body twists below her. His skin flushed red and pink, a sheen of sweat making him glisten as she holds him down, planting her hand firmly between his shoulder blades to keep him pinned and writhing. He is quite the sight.

Her grip slackens on his hair, softening, her fingers rubbing into his scalp in appreciation. He's so good for her.

And she can never get enough of him.

Gamora’s lips curve up onto a devious smile. “You know how-”

She stops suddenly, mid-sentence. She stops everything. Not only her dirty talk, but the rhythmic thrusting of the strap on inside of him too. She freezes, coming to a complete halt, pausing the thorough fucking she was giving him as she looks around, listening.

Peter whimpers, weakly pushing his hips back in an attempt to get her moving inside of him again.

“Gamora, what-?”

And then he hears it. Oh no. He hears what made her stop. The sound of a baby crying from the next room.

“No, no, no,” Peter groans uselessly. “No, let Drax get him.”

Their 11 month old son is crying in the next room. That's what they had their team for- babysitting.

Normally Peter would be the first one to Luka after he's started crying, picking him up and putting him in that sling on his chest and just walking around and carrying him everywhere.

Normally.

But right now he was still in bottom bitch Peter Quill mode, not fatherhood mode.

They're still for a couple moments more, waiting for the crying to cease, and when it doesn't, Peter shouts in frustration “Seriously, what do we pay them for?!”

(They don't pay them. Anything, in fact. They shouldn't have to pay the other guardians to look after their own goddamn nephew for an hour or two once or twice a week so they can have some alone time).

Then, just as quick as it had started, the crying stops. Because one of the other adults they lived with finally picked up the crying baby who almost always quieted as soon as he was being held.

At the silence, both parents relax, sighing in relief.

“You were saying?” Gamora asks, and he can hear the smirk in her voice. The noise he lets out in response is only a little shameful and music to her ears.

Suddenly, without warning, Gamora slams her hips up into his, and the sounds of pleasure get strangled in his throat. The direct prostate stimulation paired with how he's kinda forced to dry hump the bed with how hard Gamora's fucking him pushed him over the edge and he cums on the sheets, a ragged mess.

* * *

She isn't done with him yet, though.

No, fifteen minutes later and she's still pumping inside of him.

Space technology makes things very interesting when it comes to sex toys. Trying to make things more… intimate by telegraphing one partners reactions into something that could be felt by the other.

All that meant concerning this particular toy, this strap on, was more or less double sided, and reacted in real time. So every time Peter clenched around the artificial cock inside him, the reverse happened on Gamora's end, the length inside her and the clitoral stimulator adjusting and expanding and _moving_ in a sort of equal and opposite way. It worked the other way too. If Gamora did something on her end, like bearing down on it, pressing, clenching, even rubbing herself onto the clitoral part of the device, you could bet your ass that resulted in a sensation he could feel on his end. It was supposed to be a whole bring you closer sorta sex toy thing, or at least that was the idea behind the whole immediate response and adaptive technology, but in reality they mostly used it because it felt fucking amazing.

So yes, fifteen minutes later and Gamora's still fucking him down into the bed, albeit much more slowly. He came fifteen minutes ago and he's so sensitive, and it's dragging all these lovely noises out of him, having the constantly fluctuating member still inside him as Gamora keeps riding him and riding it, chasing her own release. Her end is fluctuating too, if you know what I mean. Peter's hole is tight and it feels so good as she fucks him. Just heavenly as the toy relates the sensations of his tight little ass adjusting and squeezing the strap on. Not to mention his weak little whimpers of worn out pleasure.

Gamora’s voice has dipped down into a whisper, murmuring, crooning into his ear as she continues her affectionate dirty talk, smoothing down his hair as something soft and sweet while he's overwhelmed with the feeling.

“I don't think Luka realizes how much of a slut his daddy is,” Gamora says, smiling. “How much his father _needs_ this time to be held down and fucked like a bitch in heat.”

Peter keens from her words alone. The tone of her voice. Her saying such degrading things. Especially in the context of their son unknowingly interrupting them earlier, his crying causing a temporary halt to his dad getting fucked like the slut Peter really is, getting used like he's so desperate for, getting the treatment that makes his stomach clench and gets him whining and squirming and begging in no time.

“Please,” he whimpers, not even sure what he’s asking for. He turns his head even further, angling to catch a kiss from her lips brushing against his ear as she told him all these dirty things.

Gamora doesn’t give it to him though. He may be a different species, but she knows Terrans aren’t supposed to crane their necks to this degree, and any further and he might actually hurt himself.

So instead she guides his head down, gently, until it’s resting flat on the bed, his face turned to the side and covered in a lovely flush.

She continues stroking his hair, placing one, two, three featherlight kisses to his temple, and Peter groans at the feeling of her shifting inside him.

His skin is feverish under her lips, and she takes a moment to just appreciate what he’s laid out before her. Peter always surrenders so beautifully.

“So pretty,” she coos, lovingly, stroking his cheek like she was admiring him. “When you're being used like you should be. Such a slutty look on your face right now, Peter. Look so good like this, all needy and desperate. Being fucked and _loving_ it. You’re just _so… good for me_.”

* * *

When Gamora climaxes, the fluctuations inside him are to die for. It's enough to make him start weakly humping the bed, even with how sensitive his flaccid cock was from his recent orgasm. He doesn't care that he's writhing on top of the sheets that are currently stained with his cum. He doesn't care about anything other than how dang good this feels.

Gamora leans forward, pressing her lips to the nape of his neck, and peppering kisses down his spine. She soothingly strokes his back too, petting him in this calm, affectionate manner.

It makes him smile, softly, even though his eyes are still closed.

It's too nice right now to do anything other than just be.

The warmth and the stillness in silence seems out of time, like it could last forever, this little moment.

Until it's broken with another sound of baby crying. It only lasts two seconds though, cause whoever was watching or playing with him probably immediately picked him up, but two seconds was long enough to break the moment.

And Peter and Gamora both start laughing at the exact same time.

“Care to join me in the shower?” She invites him, pulling out of him in a way that's hard not to groan at.

Usually Peter likes immediately cuddling after sex, as one of the most touchy-feely people in the universe. But right now...

He grimaces. “Ugh, yeah. I'm all sticky. Just- just give me a sec. You really fucked the life out of me, babe.”

Gamora chuckles, kissing the top of his head. “I'll go get the water started.”

“You're the best.”

After Gamora's hopped off the bed and started running the shower, she pops her head back out the door to see Peter still lying face first on the bed, apparently exhausted. She smiles.

“Don't take too long, _daddy_ ,” Gamora says, teasingly. “I seem to recall someone promising to take the kids out today so Groot could get his new game.”

Peter groans. Yup. He did promise that trip for the three of them- Groot, Peter, and Luka- to the video game store for that one Groot's had his eye set on for ages, that Peter promised as a reward if he did all his chores this month without being a snot-nose about ‘em (they were still figuring this teenage thing out, but apparently video games were a great motivation to get that sapling to clean his room and help out around the ship without being all whiny about it or just flat out not doing his chores. And Groot had been really good with that this month, so yeah, totally earned his reward).

You have no idea how thankful he was that Groot would be an adult by the time Luka hit his teenage years.

After Gamora calls his name again, Peter finally manages to find the strength to push himself off the bed.

“Yeah, yeah! I’m coming!”

By the time he actually makes it into the bathroom, she’s already in the shower, the glass door fogging up with steam from the running water.

He takes a moment to appreciate her beautiful silhouette, her figure all blurry and hazy behind the steamed glass, and still drop dead gorgeous in a way he’d probably try and paint if he had any artistic ability.

But he doesn’t, and she’s still waiting for him, so he joins his awesome kickass wife in the shower, and the smile that spreads across Gamora’s face just at the sight of him is by far the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.


End file.
